The air feels impossibly still.

I don’t dare breathe until Peter slides his phone and the note into his pocket and heads out the door.

I follow close behind him.

Out in the bright hotel hallway, Peter heads straight for the elevators. I knew he would, but it’s still inconvenient. As soon as he presses the glowing square button to go up, I press it too, turning it back off. For everything to go smoothly, Peter has to use the stairs. After my inspection of the area earlier tonight, that’s the only place I know for certain where there won’t be any security cameras to catch his movements.

Peter frowns. Tries again.

And again, I hit the button right after him, careful not to brush against his hand in the process.

His frown deepens. He moves to the lift on the other end of the hall, where I repeat the motion the same number of times he does, until eventually he gives up and swears under his breath.

“Stairs it is then,” he mutters.

Henry was supposed to patrol the area to make sure no student or teacher sees Peter, but he’s clearly still stuck in his room with Rainie and the others. Never mind, I tell myself as I follow Peter around the corner. I just have to avoid Vanessa, wherever she is now, and hope no one comes out for a midnight stroll through the corridors.

Though the rest of the hotel is all spotless marble surfaces, elaborate flower decorations and well-lit carpeted halls, the stairs are dark and steep and slightly uneven, everything coated in a thin layer of dust. The shadowy corners reek of garbage and disinfectant.

Peter climbs up the steps with surprising, enviable ease; I have to hurry just to keep up with him, but soon I have an awful stich in my side and a thousand small, protesting aches in my legs and lungs.

Times like this almost make me wish I’d devoted as much effort to PE class as my academic subjects.

Then again, I doubt any number of burpees and torturous basketball warm-up exercises could’ve prepared me for a covert kidnapping operation in one of Suzhou’s tallest hotels.

By the time we’ve reached the twentieth floor, an obscene amount of sweat has dripped down my back, plastering my shirt to my skin, and I can’t quite tell if it’s from the sheer physical exertion of the climb or my nerves.

We’re so very close now. The door is just up ahead of us, down the first corridor—I can see it. And Peter doesn’t have the faintest clue what’s about to happen—

No.

I give myself a mental shake. This isn’t so different from a prank. Just a higher-stakes version...with corporate executives involved.

Besides, Andrew She’s men aren’t actually going to lock him up forever or abuse and murder him. Andrew even promised me Peter would be well-fed and cared for until the promotions were announced, which should be in less than a week from now.